


You've Got Red On You

by Daxx



Category: Homestuck
Genre: D/s, Light BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 00:54:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daxx/pseuds/Daxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A work of fanfiction, both fluffy and kinky, in which Karkat discovers compatibility and romance where he least expects it.  AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You've Got Red On You

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic takes place in an Alternate Universe in which the trolls have been resurrected after the game and are learning to live their lives on earth.

I really didn’t think it would work out, at first. I was undeniably attracted to him, sure, but that was as far as it went. 

 

Long lasting romantic and sexual compatibility? Nope, not in a million fucking years. At least that’s what I thought. But time - especially time together - has a way of changing people.

 

Look, my reasons might have been shallow at first. I’ve been dicked around so much. My quadrants have been drier than the Sahara. I’ve tried, and I’ve failed, and I’m not going to lie, most of those failures have been one hundred percent my fault.

 

I guess I just needed someone strong enough to deal with my failures. 

 

Equius, it’s true, he takes the cake. He doesn’t just take it, he smashes it into pulp, along with the table underneath it.

 

Every tantrum, every insecurity, every three-year-old-drops-his-ice-cream screech, he’s withstood like a brick wall.

 

He’s let me get so much out. I feel calmer.

 

It’s not Kismesitude. That’s never been my bag, really. There’s never been any hate behind it. My anger has just been like this big, gross zit that’s been plaguing me for years, and Equius doesn’t give a shit that I’ve popped it in his face. He understands. 

 

Yeah, judging by the scarred knuckles and broken teeth, he understands. 

 

Tonight I feel like giving him a little bit back. Okay, a lot back.

 

He’s earned it. 

 

We’ve fucked, sure. I’ve slapped him around a little bit, because the big guy likes it. That’s no secret. I can tell he has so much pent up, though. He needs his own release. And a selfish troll I am not.

 

I trudge through the newly fallen snow. It’s late, the sky clear, the few stars that you can see through the lights of the city twinkling crisply. I adjust the heavy bag over my shoulder as I come to his house. The bastard has a hell of a lot more money than me. The nice digs are a benefit. Can’t fucking lie.

 

I can see my breath in the air as I walk up the front steps to his house and ring the frost-covered button on the doorbell. I can hear the heavy tromping of his footsteps as he trots down the stairs. He cracks open the door - he doesn’t smile, he rarely does - but his body language changes. He’s happy to see me.

 

"Oh, Karkat. I didn’t expect you, but come in."

 

Still so formal, like we aren’t an inch away from a Matespritship. Maybe he doesn’t want to believe it. We’ll change that.

 

He swings open the door and steps back. I let my bag fall to the floor, the contents rattling a little, and Eq’s pointed ears give a perk of curiosity, but he doesn’t ask.

 

Off come the snow-caked boots, and I put them neatly aside, because I know if I don’t the fucking bastard will do it for me like a maid.

 

He watches me awkwardly, fidgeting like he often does, as I get the rest of my winter clothes off. Then I pick up the bag again, slinging it back over my shoulder, his bright blue eyes following the movement behind his sunglasses. They’re not full of cracks - must be new.

 

I’m a little nervous, but I swallow it down. Equius isn’t hard to control if you know what you’re doing, but he’s still an intimidating sight. I’m barely pushing 5’8, and I hate to say it, but I am pushing being a little on the chubby side. Equius is 6’4 of perfectly bulging muscle, and sometimes his fuse is even shorter than mine is.

 

I’ve never seen him lay a hand on anyone that wasn’t a robot or an inanimate object, though. 

 

"Let’s go relax downstairs," I say simply. Equius nods, and he reaches for the bag. He wants to carry it for me, obviously. Sometimes it pisses me off; he treats me like I’m a weak human female, but tonight, him helping me is not an indication of my weakness. I clear my throat, get in the head-space, and try to own it.

 

"Yeah, carry that," I say, transferring it to him with one quick I-don’t-give-a-shit movement. He holds it like it’s the Easter bunny’s fucking basket, weightless.

 

"And me, too."

 

I can see him processing it behind those sunglasses for half a second, then he nods slightly, and before I know it I’m lifted like I’m the three pound Easter bunny himself, carried like a ball of fluff in those massive arms. My heart races a little, and I’m pretty sure his is doing the same thing.

 

Myself and the bag are carried downstairs. It’s mostly gym equipment and free weights down here. Blue gym mats are on the carpeted floor. A big flat screen TV and a stereo are against the far wall. 

 

Equius stands stupidly in the middle of the room, still holding myself and the rest of his cargo.

 

"All right, dumbass, put me down."

 

He does so, like I’m made of glass.

 

"And the bag."

 

It follows.

 

I take one of his dinner-plate hands in mine. Like I said, this isn’t a Kismesitute. 

 

"Take those stupid things off."

 

He knows what I mean, and the sunglasses are removed and set on a nearby piece of equipment with his free hand. He looks down at me, and I look back up at him. I can’t help but grin slightly, even though it might ruin the whole dominance appeal.

 

"So, want to have a little fun?"

 

He nods, barely, but that’s just Equius. I know he’s already chomping at the metaphorical bit.

 

"Sit. I’ve got some presents for you."

 

I barely have the time to get the word ‘sit’ out before that toned ass hits the carpet beneath it, and he’s waiting.

 

I unzip the bag, being careful not to let him see everything that’s in it at once. That would ruin the surprise. This stuff wasn’t easy - or cheap - to come by, especially in his sizes.

 

I fish around for a second or two, and find my first item. A thick leather collar, the strongest I could find. A chain is attached, durable but light enough for a guy like me to wield. The collar is designed with some give - so when I pull, he’s going to feel a little short of breath.

 

I can see his eyes widen a little. His forehead is starting to look a bit damp. Before he has a chance to say anything, if he’s planning on it, I fasten the collar nice and snug around his neck.

 

"You like that?"

 

He tenses, but he doesn’t respond. It’s goddamn obvious that he likes it, but for such a fucking beast, he sure can be shy.

 

I’ll fix that. I give his cheek a few light slaps.

 

"Hey. I said, do you fucking like that?"

 

Those cheeks of his flush navy.

 

"Y-yes."

 

I run my fingers through his long black hair, letting my claws graze his scalp, trying to soothe him, let him know it’s okay to let go. I want this too.

 

"Yes what?"

 

Oh, he fucking knows what to say. It doesn’t need to be explained.

 

"Yes, Sir."

 

His voice is confident this time, and I can feel my own body heating up.

Yeah, this feels right.

 

I tug on the leash, nice and hard, wordlessly guiding him over to one of his weight machines, but only so that I can have a seat.

 

"Down."

 

He’s at my feet again, on his knees, head bowed. I can already see his eyes starting to glaze over. I slip off my socks and wiggle my clawed toes a little, pointing down.

 

"Show me some fucking respect."

 

He gets on his hands and knees, ass in the air and head down, and puts his nose to my feet, nuzzling. I can see a shudder run through his body.

 

"That’s it. Come on, asshole, you can do better than that."

 

He starts to plant kisses, too, and he even pulls back that long hair of his to keep it from tickling. Up and down the top of one foot, then the other. I can feel goosebumps forming on my body - the hairs on the back of my neck are standing up, and my inner thighs are hot.

 

"Yeah. That’s it. What a pathetic shit you are, kissing a lowblood’s feet, and you fucking like it too, don’t you?"

 

He shudders again, his sharp teeth giving my foot a gentle love-nip.

 

"Y-yes Sir."

 

He moves down to my toes, licking atop and between them. I can’t help but hum slightly with pleasure, and I can feel my bulge starting to get hard, starting to make itself known.

 

"All right, up. You’ve had enough."

 

He stands, and I smirk a little as I notice the bulge in his shorts, but I ignore it for now. 

 

I can’t help myself. He’s visibly trembling with excitement, and sweating - naturally. I walk up to him and give him a good hard smack full across the face. He takes it like the world’s strongest bitch, a slight smile of pure joy crossing his features. He reaches out to me, looking like he wants to embrace and kiss me, and it’s tempting, but I wag my finger at him, just about jabbing him with a claw.

 

"HEY! Don’t you put your filthy fucking hands on me yet. Take your clothes off."

 

He does so, eagerly and clumsily peeling off his sweaty tank top, his shorts and boxers following. His smooth, grey, ripped body is a beautiful sight - and so is his now fully-erect bulge, blue like his blood colour, thick, curled, and tapered. It’s a struggle not to touch him, but instead I point to where I was sitting on the weight machine.

 

"Sit there. Facing away from me."

 

He does so, and I go back to digging in that bag. First, I pull out a pair of leather wrist restraints. Then, a good sized and very intimidating looking leather flogger. I wanted it to be small enough for me to hold, but big enough to make this fella squirm. Walking back over to him, I fasten the leather restraints around his wrists, thankful they fit. He’s then hooked to the part of the machine he would normally grab on to to lift, so that his arms are raised high in the air. I know he could probably escape from just about anything, but Equius is very clearly enjoying our little game.

 

I swing the flogger before showing it to him, letting the leather straps whir and crack in the air. His pointed ears perk, and he tries to look, but I grab his one good horn and shove his head forward roughly.

 

"Keep your fucking head down."

 

Not just to show respect, but to make sure none of those leather strips end up winding around his neck. I want to hurt him, not send him to the hospital.

 

I’ve taken classes on this, so I know how to do it right. 

 

I think in my head, Equius is lucky I love him, and as I swing the flogger, I realize I do fucking love him.

 

At first they’re just light smacks, not enough to hurt, in quick succession. Equius sighs deeply like someone wandering in the desert who has just been given a cold glass of water. I keep it up, swinging and swinging, the smacks of the flogger like some deliciously twisted, rhythmic music, slowly hitting him harder and harder.

 

He starts to make the most wonderful noises. Restrained at first, just grunts of pleasured pain. His body shudders again, and I can see him start to sag as he goes into the trance of the truly submissive. I’m breaking out into a sweat, too. This is hard fucking work, and a major turn on, too. My own pants are starting to get painfully tight. His smooth back is starting to flush blue from the flogging. He’s groaning in pleasure now, unrestrained.

 

I stop suddenly and take a step closer, rubbing my hands together to get the palms good and hot, then I rub them soothingly over his stinging back, up around those broad shoulders, down to the small of his back, then repeating. Equius is taking deep, measured breaths, trembling at my touch.

 

I lean in and whisper softly in his ear.

 

"Harder?"

 

"Yes, please, Sir."

 

I take a step back again, lift the flogger, and put all of my might into it. I know because of our size and strength differences, I could never truly hurt him. Over and over again the leather falls, with Equius moaning and sweating, and me unable to stop myself fondling my rock hard bulge through my pants. When my arm feels like it just can’t swing anymore, I finally let up.

 

I set the flogger aside, taking a step up behind him again, repeating the soothing palm rubbing, a slight amount of his blue blood mixing in with his sweat. I let him relax a bit so he doesn’t keel over when he stands, then I undo the wrist restraints, setting them aside too. He slowly lowers his arms, rubbing his wrists.

 

"Turn around."

 

He does so, and the look of utter adoration and bliss on his face just about knocks me flat on my ass. I step forward, rubbing his strong chin and jaw, and this time I do allow myself to kiss him, giving his lip a nasty little nibble to let him know I’m not done being in charge.

 

"You good?"

 

"Y-yes, Sir, very good."

 

If the way his bulge is leaking blue genetic fluid all over the weight machine is any indication, he’s telling the truth.

 

I finally can’t take it anymore. I strip off my own sweater, my pants and underwear following. My own smaller, red bulge springs forth, my thighs dripping my blood colour. I take a step up so that my feet are planted on either side of him on the seat of the weight machine, and my twitching bulge is right in his face. He groans, but he catches on fast. He knows his place, and he holds still. 

 

I grip my bulge and start to slowly stroke it.

 

"You want that, don’t you?"

 

"Mm, yes, please, Sir."

 

"Yeah, I know you fucking do."

 

And I slip it slowly into his waiting mouth. Equius wraps one strong hand around the base and starts to suck. His hot, wet mouth after all of that teasing is insanely good. I put my hand on his good horn, fondling the base for a few seconds, and then gripping it. He lowers his hand, knowing what’s coming.

 

I start to thrust my hips, face fucking him, slowly at first. He groans and takes it like a pro, red dripping down his chin. I pick up the pace until I can feel the tip of my bulge pounding the back of his throat, and he never complains, never lets up.

 

"Aagh, fuck."

 

I don’t want to come yet. I shudder and pull out, and Equius hums with pleasure and licks his lips.

 

Lifting my bulge up, I show off my dripping nook. Equius watches with rapt attention.

 

"You want that too, don’t you?"

 

"Mmng, yes Sir. Please."

 

I lower myself a little bit, half-squatting, so that my soaked nook is poised just above the big boy’s huge, throbbing blue bulge.

 

"Say you fucking want it."

 

"I-I want it, Sir, please!"

 

I glare at him.

 

"Say you fucking want it, and say it quick, or the only hole you’re going to get is your closed hand."

 

He hesitates, but only for a split second.

 

"Please, I fucking want it, Sir!"

 

I smile as his face flushes blue with lust and embarrassment, but I reward him instantly, sitting down slowly and taking his bulge inch by inch. It fills me just like I need it, so fucking perfect, and I clench around him lovingly. Slowly, I start to bounce in his lap.

 

"Put your hands on me, Equius."

 

He does so, strong hands placed on my hips as I ride him. That bulge pounding the inside of my nook makes it difficult to keep up the dominant role. One hand gets a grip on his good horn, and the other rests on his shoulder.

 

"Mng, fuck yeah, that’s it."

 

No words escape Equius, but he’s moaning with pleasure, his breath coming more and more quickly. My arousal grows until both of us are dripping red and blue all over the seat of the machine, my ass clapping lewdly against his thick, muscular thighs.

 

I lean in to kiss him, gently.

 

"You have permission to come after I do."

 

I reach down, stroking myself, and it doesn’t take long before an intense orgasm washes over me. I howl with pleasure, my bulge throbbing and shooting out a heavy splattering of bright red genetic material all over those cut abs and pecs. The rhythmic clenching of my insides brings him to climax not long after, and he growls and groans as I slow my pace, the sheer force and amount of his own genetic material making it drip out of me and onto the seat below.

 

We both catch our breath, and Equius is looking at me like he can’t believe what just happened, one of those rare smiles plastered on his face, not going away. I steal another kiss.

 

"Good?" I ask, breathlessly.

 

He nods.

 

"Yes, Karkat. Truly exquisite."

 

I laugh a bit.

 

"All right. Let’s go take a shower, you sweaty freak."


End file.
